Life or Something Like It
by GeoGirl1
Summary: Seven long years have passed since the Kazuma and Ryuho disappeared to fight there own personal war. The Lost Ground and the people they have left behind have changed. Can they find a place in this new world? RyuhoMimori
1. Scavengers

**Disclaimer: **I do not own s-Cry-ed or any of the characters. No profit is being made.

**A/N:** I found s-Cry-ed due to my insomnia and Adult Swim. I have since become obsessed with the characters and the subtle relationships between them. This fanfiction is based solely on the Anime and begins after the end of the series.

**Chapter 1: Scavengers (The Second Year of Independence).**

"Fifty-six, fifty-seven, fifty-eight," a soft voice droned on rhythmically, "fifty-nine, sixty." With the last number, a slender woman pulled herself onto a landing and paused. She breathed in deeply through the silk cloth she had tied around her face to protect her lungs from the ever-present dust. She wiped her forearm across her brow and grimaced at the stain of sweat and dirt left on the sleeve of her stiff canvas jumpsuit. Releasing a sad sigh, she began climbing once again. "Sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three…"

The woman finally stopped her ascent somewhere in the eighties where the sounds of workers could be heard filtering into stairwell through an open door. The woman wandered into the adjacent corridor. "Jiro," she called, "Jiro."

A relatively rotund man leaned out of an open doorway. "Ah, Miss Mimori," he called. Although a mask obscured his mouth, a smile was evident in the tone of his voice. "We were beginning to think you wouldn't be joining us today."

"I'm sorry," Mimori sighed, "The stairs seem to be taking me longer and longer each day."

"Don't worry about it dear," Jiro replied in a fatherly manner, "The job affects all of us. You can start in the third door on the left."

Mimori nodded and trudged in the direction Jiro had indicated. She found door already pried open waiting for her.

Before demolition of the HOLY complex was scheduled to begin, the call had gone out to former HOLY employees in the Lost Ground to join the scavenger crews and help sort through the potentially vital and sensitive information being recovered. Mimori was not really suited to this work, and she would have much rather remained in her little clinic. However since she understood the inner workings of HOLD and HOLY better than most, she felt obligated to volunteer.

The crew was currently working on one of the dormitory buildings. They had slowly worked their way down from the top, removing usable items. When the building was cleared, the heavy machinery would be brought in for the final demolition. All metal, glass, and other building materials would be recycled. When the ground was finally level and clear, new construction could start. Maybe this plot of land would become a school or a park.

Mimori entered an apartment not unlike the one she had made her home a few years ago, when the world was a different place. She decided to start in the kitchen, as that was generally the most unpleasant part. Often a scavenger came across rotting food and the vermin that lived off it, but kitchen cabinets also contained a wealth of useful items. Besides, Mimori had worked at this job too long to be frightened of scurrying mice. She started opening cabinets and began pulling out canned goods, dishes, cookware, appliances, and cleaning supplies. Nothing was left behind that could be useful. Later crews would come through to pull out the refrigerator, stove, plumbing features, and even the cabinets themselves if they were in good shape.

Mimori carefully arranged the items she recovered in one of the many canvas bags she had brought with her. When it was full, she tightly tied off the top and used a marker to label the bag with the building, apartment number, and room. Everything was properly labeled, just in case an owner would come forward. It took nearly all Mimori's strength to drag the bag out into the hallway and down to the Pulley Operator. The large man easily hefted the bag through an open window to his partner on the platform suspended off the side of the building. Soon the makeshift elevator would be loaded to capacity and lowered down into a waiting truck. Mimori waved as cheerfully as she could to the two men before returning to her assigned apartment.

The job of methodically evicting someone was not easy. Mimori had learned quickly not to pay attention to the names on unopened mail or the faces inside picture frames. It was just too painful. As soon as you started putting a name and face with the clothing or personal items you were packing away, you began wondering where that person was and worrying about them. Since the answer was more often than not unpleasant, it was better only to see objects.

By mid-afternoon, Mimori was making great progress. She had found a stash of prescription drugs that was probably worth twice its weight in gold and was currently packing up the remnants of a home office. Papers and files from any HOLY building had to be packed separately from other items. These would be examined with a fine-toothed comb for information. But even as she neatly stacked folders in a special bag, Mimori bemoaned the amount of time she and her staff would waste with the bags upon bags of papers. From experience she could guess that the bulk of the paperwork would end up being recycled. She opened a file just to prove her instinct and half expected to find another stash of old school reports.

Cougar. The name leapt out as her eyes skimmed the page. Mimori gasped audibly and the building seemed to tremble. She focused on the text more closely. It was a HOLY memo from Zigmarl to Cougar. A quick inspection of the rest of folder found more of the same. With dawning horror, Mimori seized the nearby bag containing the precious prescriptions. Now that she took the time to fully read the labels, the situation became clear. She was in Straight Cougar's apartment, and the pills clutched in her hand were intended to fight the damage using his alter power had created. The damage that eventually killed him.

She was truly amazed by how close the pain was to the surface. Tears escaped her eyes clearing little tracks on her dust-covered face. Mimori tugged the scarf from around her mouth and mopped at her leaky eyes as sobs overpowered her body with such violence the whole room seemed to shake. She thought of all of the seemingly meaningless items she had callously packed away and drug from the apartment. Now, they all seemed so precious that her heart ached at the thought of them. She wept so fiercely that the room rocked.

It was the groan of failing metal and the cracking of concrete that finally alerted Mimori to the fact that the building she was in was actually shaking. "Oh God," Mimori moaned. The Lost Ground had been subjected to countless earth tremors and small upheavals since the end of the war. Mimori was one of the few who understood why. Two alter users, locked in an endless battle for dominance on the Other Side, were still sending shockwaves through the lives of those they had chosen to abandon.

Even as the floor beneath her gave way and the ceiling above her collapsed, Mimori's thoughts were focused on Ryuho. As she collided with the ground and the rubble buried her, she managed to grasp the pendant around her neck. "Please be okay, Ryuho," she whispered before the world faded into darkness.


	2. The Other Side

**Disclaimer: **I don't s-Cry-ed or any of the characters. No profit is being made.

**A/N:** Thank you to my reviewers for their encouraging words. This chapter is short and sweet. No worries, there's more to come.

**Chapter 2: The Other Side.**

Mimori was not dead. On that fact she was certain, although she was clearly no longer in her body. That realization should have alarmed her, but her heart and mind were strangely free of fear and doubt. She was floating along a tunnel of swirling pastel light. Her hair and the skirt of her white gown seemed to dance all around her. A slight weight tugged at her neck, and Mimori gazed down at a triangular pendent.

The memories came back to her in a rush; the building collapse, the pain, and the darkness. She suddenly felt more solid. The light of the tunnel did not fade, but now she could recognize it. She had observed this same light building around alter users when they accessed their powers. She was on the Other Side.

Her heart filled with joy. _Ryuho_, she thought, _I'm here. I will find you._ She willed her legs to move. It was difficult at first, like trying to walk along the bottom of a swimming pool, but soon she was moving in long graceful leaps. "Ryuho," she called out happily, "Ryuho." Her voice echoed like bells upon the breeze.


	3. Awakening

**Disclaimer: **I don't own s-Cry-ed or its characters. No profit is being made.

**A/N:** Again thanks to my reviewers. The chapters are now going to start skipping forward in time until all the pieces are in place.

**Chapter 3: Awakening (The Third Year of Independence).**

"No," a young girl cried sitting up in her bed. Tears swelled in her bright green eyes.

"What is it?" a feminine voice asked as a young woman in a night gown rushed into her room, "Kanami, what's wrong?

Kanami's eyes finally focused on Cammy, Asuka Tachibana's wife. "I was dreaming," she explained, "of a woman. She's been searching for so long, but despair has finally taken root in her heart. She has given up hope of ever finding what she has lost. Her soul is weary. She cannot go on."

Cammy was quite familiar with the manifestation of Kanami's alter into dreams. In the difficult times following the war, the young alter user had become skilled at interpreting her visions. She waited silently for Kanami to continue.

"Mimori is going to wake up soon," Kanami said. "We must be there."

It had been almost a full year since Mimori's accident. Kanami still remembered the horror of those first few days; the desperate dig to recover her and the hours of intensive surgery. The coma Mimori slipped into seemed at first a blessing for her broken body, but as the months wore on, it became a somber situation. The doctor's did not hold onto much hope that Mimori would wake up, and they issued dire warnings about the medical complications she would endure if she did.

Kanami could tell Cammy doubted her prediction, but the woman only said calmly, "I'll tell Asuka. We can leave first thing in the morning."

Kanami allowed Cammy to fuss over her and tuck her back into bed. She was too old now for mothering, but after tonight's dream she was grateful for the comfort.

Tachibana had once told Kanami that alter power was derived from the Other Side. He had said that only alter users could access that special plane, and even among them, only the very gifted could withstand its true power. Kanami didn't understand the technical aspects of this Other Side, but she believed that Mimori's deep love of Ryuho had drawn her spirit there when it should have passed from this world all together. She knew in her heart that some part of Mimori was traveling the Other Side, and using her alter power, Kanami traveled with her. Each night they searched the endless expanse for Ryuho and Kazuma, and each night she shared the keen sense of failure with Mimori.

Mimori had finally given up her search. Because she could not find Ryuho on the Other Side, she would continue her search here.

The next morning Kanami, Cammy, and Asuka climbed into their car and drove the short distance into the city. While many neighborhoods were still under going major reconstruction, the hospital was located in a part of the city left miraculously untouched during the upheavals of the war.

The hospital had been a state of the art facility equal to any on the mainland before the war. But with each year of independence, it fell farther from grace. Still it was the best hospital on the Lost Ground, and the only one with the facilities to provide long term intensive care.

Kanami, Cammy, and Asuka were familiar faces to the staff. "I'm afraid there has been no change in her vitals," the nurse at the check-in desk said, "It is truly miraculous that she's survived so long." The nurse meant the comment kindly, but it came across harshly none the less.

Mimori's private room lay at the end of the hall. Kanami and Cammy had tried to soften the coldness of the interior with colorful sketches and happy pictures, but the slow rhythmic beeping of monitors and the low hum of machines were difficult to ignore.

Kanami took the chair nearest to Mimori. Her friend lay motionless on the hospital bed without any of the naturalness of sleep. Although the nursing staff took excellent care of her, Mimori's ebony hair had lost its shining beauty and turned into coarse straw. Her skin was sickly transparent. Kanami had to be mindful of the various tubes going into and out of Mimori as she took her friend's hand. It was cool and limp.

"Do you really think Miss Mimori is going to come out of her coma soon?" Tachibana asked as he sat down in a chair on the opposite side of the bed.

"Yes," Kanami replied without hesitation. She looked straight into Mimori's face and said, "Mimori. Asuka, Cammy, and I are here to see you."

Almost as if on cue, Mimori's eye lids opened slowly and looked directly at Kanami. At first her eyes were glassy and unclear, but after several rapid blinks, they were piercing. She turned her head slowly to look first at Tachibana and then Cammy. They gasped in response. She made a complete scan of the room before returning to the girl beside her. "Kanami," she whispered in a voice just above an exhale, "I never meant to leave you alone." Tears filled her sad eyes.

"I understand," Kanami said, squeezing Mimori's hand.

The beeping of the heart monitor increased dramatically and soon a loud alarm went off. The door flew open as a nurse scurried inside. After taking in the scene, the nurse grabbed the receiver off a near by phone, pressed in a series of numbers, and spoke quickly into it. Within minutes a whole medical team swarmed the room. Kanami and the Tachibanas were shoved unceremoniously into the hall.


	4. Dreaming

**Disclaimer:** Don't own…yada, yada, yada … no profit.

**A/N:** Thank you again to all of my reviewers. I'm glad that you are enjoying the story. Just to clarify a point of confusion… Mimori was able to visit the Other Side because she was having an out-of-body experience. Well I'm off to get started on Chapter Ten.

**Chapter 4: Dreaming.**

Mimori's recovery was heralded as miraculous. To the confusion of her doctors, all the dreaded complications from her accident and coma never materialized. In fact every morning that Kanami and the Tachibanas went to visit her, another of Mimori's afflictions seemed to have disappear.

In under a month, Mimori and Kanami returned to their home over looking the sea. The clinic was swept clean, and Tachibana saw to its restocking. Friends and neighbors arrived to help put in the crops and donated new animals for a fresh herd. It seemed as if their lives had just been temporarily delayed by the accident.

Mimori was not happy, but she was content as she gazed out into the darkeness. This was her favorite place on the entire farm. Two lounge chairs and a grave situated just a hair's breadth away from the cliff's edge. While sitting in that special spot, the stars seemed to completely surround her. If not for the sounds of the ocean below, Mimori could almost swear she was floating in the night sky.

"Mimori," Kanami called from the farmhouse porch.

"I'm by the cliff," she shouted back.

There was a pause before Mimori heard the screen door slam. In a few moments, Kanami appeared beside her carrying a blanket in one hand and a mug in the other. "You shouldn't be out here this late," Kanami chided, "You've only just got out of the hospital. You'll catch cold."

"It's a warm summer night," Mimori laughed, but she took the blanket Kanami handed her.

"Be careful, its hot," Kanami warned as she handed her the mug as well.

Mimori inhaled the steam coming off the mug, chamomile. She listened to the sounds of Kanami arranging herself in the lounger next to her. It was strange to be mothered by an eleven year old, but Mimori was glad of it for she still felt weak. She blew vigorously on the surface of her tea before taking a small sip and winced as her taste buds were scalded.

"I told you it was hot," Kanami snorted.

They sat in silence for several minutes. Each lost in their own thoughts. Around them the air was full of a symphony of chirping insects, and the breeze carried the scent of sweet flowers and salty water.

"Mimori?" the young girl asked.

"Yes Kanami," Mimori sighed.

"You were expecting to see Ryuho when you woke up." It was really more of a statement then a question.

"Yes." Mimori's eyes blurred with tears, but she focused on a bright star to stop them from flowing. Quiet moments ticked by.

"Do you think they will ever come back?" Kanami's voice was as quiet and shaky as a mouse cornered by a cat.

Mimori swung her gaze towards her young friend. In the darkness she couldn't see her expression, but the light from the porch illuminated the back of her head like a golden halo. "You don't dream of Kazuma anymore?" she asked.

"No," Kanami whispered, "My dreams are filled by another, a woman whose heart is filled with so much love and sadness."

"I see," Mimori said turning away. "I have replaced Kazuma in your dreams." Kanami remained silent as embarrassment emanated off her. "There is no need to be ashamed," Mimori explained, "You and I have been taking care of each other for some time now. Perhaps I just need your help more than Kazuma."

"I know you were searching the Other Side for Ryuho," Kanami said.

Mimori laughed a little harshly. "I couldn't find him, so I thought maybe he'd returned to the Lost Ground."

"They will be back some day," Kanami said confidently.

Mimori didn't answer but merely sipped her tea, which was now at a much more agreeable temperature. A flicker of anger sparked in the sadness of her heart. Did it really matter if Ryuho came back? He had abandoned her to this unstable world. Hadn't she squandered too many thoughts on him?

"You've changed Mimori," Kanami whispered.

"Maybe I've finally grown-up," Mimori offered, "Or maybe I'm just weary."

Kanami nodded softly. She understood. A heart could only stand so much uncertainty. "I'm glad you're back," she sighed a moment later.

"I am too," the young woman agreed.

"Mimori?" Kanami asked.

"Yes Kanami," Mimori sighed in reply

"What do you dream of?" Kanami probed.

"Fire," Mimori whispered darkly.


	5. Bored

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill.

**A/N:** Thanks to my reviewers. Well it's about time, but Kazuma and Ryuho have decided to join the party.

**Chapter 5: Bored (The Seventh Year of Independence).**

The alter dimension proved a superb battleground. The physical demands of the body and the thoughts of the world beyond the battle were strangely silent. Ryuho and Kazuma could fight on and on, ignorant of the ebb and flow of time. They had it down to a choreographed dance. First Zetsuei would attack, then the Shell Bullet. Sometimes one opponent would go wheeling backward, sometimes both, and sometimes they would just stand locked together for hours as the power of the Other Side erupted around them. When their alters were used up, they'd use their fists. When they could no longer stand, they'd lay on the ground panting and hurling insults at one another.

Ryuho hated the carelessness with which Kazuma used his alter. He wielded it like a small child with a loaded gun, completely ignorant of the risk. It was representative of the basest and most deadly attitude. Ryuho would teach Kazuma the danger of his flippancy if it took him an eternity. That had been his all consuming mission since gaining the Lost Ground its independence. Only once did he waver in his concentration when he thought he heard Mimori's voice calling to him. But, the beating Kazuma gave him for his moment of hesitation had doubled his resolve.

To Kazuma, it seemed the entire world was determined to hold him back, control him, and break him. Ryuho wanted him to be ashamed of his alter powers. Order, everything in neat rows, that's what Ryuho wanted. It was the epitome of totalitarianism and oppression. Kazuma would make him see that the world was a wild place and freedom was the only real truth. As soon as he destroyed Ryuho, there would be no one to stop him from living his life the way he saw fit.

Ryuho sat hunched over on a barren rock. Sometimes fragments of the Lost Ground bled through to the Other Side offering places of refuge. His lungs burned painful as he breathed and his head pounded. He rested with his eyes cautiously trained on Kazuma, who was leaning heavily on a dead tree less then a fifty paces away. He smiled slightly as he observed his opponent was in the same poor shape as he.

Kazuma suddenly pushed away from the tree trunk and staggered towards him. Ryuho immediately did the same, preparing himself for another round. He felt his teeth and his fists clench, but Kazuma didn't attack. He merely stood staring at Ryuho with a surprise expression. "I'm bored," he sneered, "I'm going home."

"Kazuma," Ryuho yelled, "Is this some new trick?"

Kazuma merely laughed and faded away.

"Kazuma" Ryuho roared in fury, "I won't let you get away." The rock behind him exploded, and the churning light of the Other Side surrounded him. He ran blindly in the direction of Kazuma, but no one was there.

As he stood seething, the light began to fade. For the first time in years, a gentle breeze ruffled his hair. The rage drained out of his body like air from a deflating balloon. It was night, but the light from the full moon illuminated his surroundings. The starry sky above seemed to mock the barren ground he stood on with its beauty.

Ryuho hesitated. What should he do? Where should he go? A flicker of a memory returned to him. Before he and Kazuma began their battle, his intention had been to disrupt any secretive plots of the mainland's. It still seemed the best course, but where to begin? Tachibana would know. He'd seek out Tachibana.


	6. Nerve

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill.

**A/N**: Thanks to my reviewers.

**Chapter 6: Nerve.**

Kazuma didn't totally understand why he had walked away from the battle with Ryuho. It wasn't out of cowardice or weakness. He had experienced what Ryuho would call, "one of his few fleeting sparks of intelligence." In that moment of awareness, he had realized the futility of this fight. With that realization, a bone-crushing weariness descended on him and a burning desire to see Kanami. He made the decision in a blink of an eye, and he didn't hesitate to turn his back on Ryuho. Besides, the rage Ryuho felt left the sweet taste of satisfaction in his mouth.

"What a dump!" He commented as the Other Side faded and his eyes finally focused on the terrain of the Lost Ground. Even though it was night, he could see no evidence of living things. Still, the solid ground beneath his feet felt oddly comforting.

By early morning, Kazuma had reached a prosperous little village. He found himself keenly interested in the crowds of people milling around the streets, going about their duties. He tried several times to ask for directions, but the people shied away from him. "Stuck up snobs," he snarled at them, but then he caught a glimpse of his appearance in a shop window. He paused in amazement. The boy he remembered was gone. In his place was a ragged man. He had dark bruises over most of his skin, and one of his eyes and his lower lip was swollen. In addition, the almost constant use of his alter power had left deep scars on his right arm and right side of his face.

After stealing a few bites of food, he quickly left the village and continued along a road. There he was nearly run down by a car whose driver leaned out of the window to give him a verbal thrashing. Kazuma was too surprised to respond with his usual fury, and simply moved to the side of the road. As the morning progressed, traffic picked up. Kazuma had never seen so many vehicles outside of the city.

Finally, a truck driver took pity on him and pulled over. "Do you need a ride, young man," he asked in a gruff voice.

"Yeah," Kazuma replied just as gruffly before climbing into the cab.

"If you don't mind me saying," the old man said, "you look like you've been in one hell of a fight."

"Thanks," Kazuma sneered, "You don't look so hot yourself."

"No offense meant young man," the driver apologized, "where are you headed?"

Kazuma explained about his village and described the farm where Kanami worked.

"That place sounds familiar," the driver said, "There are many farms like that near Mr. Tachibana's place."

"Tachibana," Kazuma snorted with recognition, "You mean that sniveling purple haired weakling who got kicked out of HOLY."

The truck driver stamped so hard on the breaks that Kazuma was nearly launched through the windshield. "I don't know who you are," the man raged, "but you have a lot of nerve talking that way about someone of Mr. Tachibana's standing. He's done more for the New Republic than just about any other citizen."

"New Republic," Kazuma scoffed, "What are you going on about?"

The driver was so taken aback by Kazuma's response that his rage disappeared. "Where have you been chump? The Lost Ground has been independent of the mainland for years now."

The driver's words were like a bullet to Kazuma's brain. It couldn't be. It seemed like only yesterday that he and Ryuho had defeated the mainland's army. Months he could believe, but not years. "You're crazy old man."

The driver didn't seem to agree about who was the crazy one. "I think you better get out of my truck."

"What!" Kazuma said with a rush of indignation. "Look, I'm sorry. I was joking about Tachibana. We're old friends. In fact you can take me to him."

His hurried words seem to placate the driver. "Well alright," old man said, "But only because I'm heading that way."

The driver put the truck into gear and pulled back into traffic. Kazuma was sure he heard him mutter something about "good-for-nothing young men," but he let it pass. In fact, he found the slight vibration and hum of the truck to be almost hypnotic. Soon he was drifting off to his first true sleep in years.

Kazuma awoke when the truck pulled to a rumbling stop. "What's going on?" he demanded.

"We're here," answered the driver. The old man didn't wait for a reply before sliding out of the driver's seat with a clip board in his hand.

Kazuma looked up to see a bustling work yard. Crates and boxes were being moved into and out of trucks at an amazing speed and volume. Workers scurried about like busy ants. Across the yard, he saw a familiar figure in a long brown trench coat talking with a man in overalls.

Kazuma alighted from the truck and stalked in the direction of Tachibana. "Tachibana," he called out in a voice that was more like a challenge than a greeting.

Tachibana appeared to freeze in mid-sentence. He looked up with startled eyes in Kazuma's direction. "Kazuma?" he called in amazement. "Is that you?"

"Stop staring at me as if I was a ghost," Kazuma barked.

"It's Kazuma all right," Tachibana said giving the worker he was with a nod of dismissal. He turned and began walking from the yard, but he kept his pace slow until Kazuma could catch up. "You've got a lot of nerve showing up here after all these years," Tachibana said angrily.

"You're the second person to question my nerve today. I find it rather annoying," Kazuma retorted. "Besides, it hasn't been that long."

Tachibana shot Kazuma a disbelieving look. "You don't have a clue, do you?"

"That crackpot driver of yours told me it had been years," Kazuma replied laughingly.

"Seven, to be exact," Tachibana clarified.

Kazuma drew Asuka to a stop. "Come on ... don't kid with me. I've had a long day."

"I dead serious," Tachibana said. The expression on his face echoed his sentiment.

Seven years. The number seemed unbelievable to Kazuma. Yet even as he denied it, his eyes could see the time etched on Tachibana's face. He could only recognize traces of the boy he had known in the man standing before him. A rush of guilt ran through him. Kazuma had never intended to be away for so long. A past promise echoed uncomfortably in his ears. He hoped he hadn't broken it. "Where's Kanami?" he demanded.

"She lived with Cammy and I for a while," Tachibana said nodding his head in the direction of tidy little house tucked to one side of the work yard, "But she's been living on a farm along the sea cliffs for most of the…" Tachibana's explanation trailed off as Kazuma began swiftly walking in the direction of the ocean. Tachibana swallowed a growl before calling out, "Follow the signs for the clinic. It's about two miles north along the road."

Kazuma raised his hand in thanks but didn't turn back.


	7. Chickens

**Disclaimer:** See previous chapters.

**Chapter 7: Chickens.**

The road leaving Tachibana's appeared freshly paved and was busy. Trucks and cars raced along passing fields, pastures, and the occasional farm house and associated buildings. Everything was fresh and new; all the old ruins from before the great upheaval were gone. The landscape teemed with life and prosperity. Only once had Kazuma ever experienced such a thing, when he had infiltrated HOLY and lived inside the city wall. What was this new world he had stumbled into?

Kazuma paused beneath a clinic sign with a large arrow pointing to the right. Up a head, a gravel road joined the main at a right angle. It seemed to cut a straight line through fields towards the sea, but he could make out the outline of buildings in the distance. _That must be the place_, he thought.

The gravel crunched with a satisfying sound underneath his feet as he walked up the drive. The scent of fresh cut hay and saltwater drifted on the breeze, and the mid-day sun pleasantly warmed his skin. As the outline of farm buildings drew steadily closer, the sounds of mooing cattle and clucking chickens reached his ears.

The gravel drive ended in a large turn about. To the right was a quaint farmhouse and a barn, to the left was one story L-shaped building with the international sign for medical care on its side. The doors and windows were open to the mild day.

Kazuma was about to make for the clinic when a bittersweet sound reached his ears, laughter and lively chatter. He changed his course immediately and followed the delightful sound. As he came around the side of the barn, he saw a chicken coop with birds rushing to gather around a woman who was casting a wide arc of seeds on the ground. Another woman was pitching hay over a fence to some bleating sheep. Both were wearing large straw hats that shaded and obscured their faces.

"Kaza-kun, don't be such a pig," an almost familiar voice admonished.

Kazuma's heart leapt at the endearment. "Kanami," he called out looking around for the girl.

The head of the woman feeding the chickens shot up, and green eyes met his. Kazuma felt the shock go all the way though him. She was older and taller, but her features were unmistakable. His little Kanami had grown up and he hadn't been there to see it. She must be fifteen now, and she looked every inch a proper young lady. The sharp sting of regret filled his heart.

"Kazuma!" she gasped.

"I wish you'd just kick that stupid bird," the woman with the pitchfork said as she hefted another load of hay, "He could use with a good dose of manners."

"Kazuma!" Kanami shouted. She dropped her bag of seeds carelessly on the ground, and her eyes shined with tears as she stumbled towards him. Arms that used to only be able to reach his waist now wrapped tightly around his neck.

Joy erupted within him as his arms closed around the young woman. He laughed carelessly and swung her around.

"Kanami, what is the matter with those chickens?" the other woman demanded pausing in her work.

Over Kanami's shoulder he watched the woman turn towards in the direction of the chickens clucking wildly over the fallen bag. Confused eyes rose from the madly swarming birds to the couple embracing across the yard. Her eyes widened and her face paled with shock as she recognized him. Kazuma was stunned to find he recognized her as well. She was that pretty little doctor who followed Ryuho around. _What was her name?_

"Mimori," Kanami cried pulling away from Kazuma, "He came back. Kazuma's come back." She rushed over to squeeze the other woman briefly before turning around and racing over to hug him again.

Kazuma stumbled at the impact and had barely regained his footing when he felt another body hit him. Mimori had thankfully dropped her pitchfork and rushed over to embrace both he and Kanami. Although he could barely breathe through the crush, Kazuma couldn't contain his laughter or his tears.

The three stood there for several minutes locked together, alternately crying and laughing. Kazuma could not remember a happier moment in his life. He was home.

When the three finally pulled apart, the two women pulled Kazuma towards the house. "Hey wait a minute," Kazuma said sharply stopping. He sounded rather insulted when he asked, "Did you name a chicken after me?"

"No," Kanami giggled, "Just a rather poorly behaved rooster."


	8. Ask

**Disclaimer: **See earlier chapters.

**A/N:** Sorry about the delay in updating. I was out of town at my cousin's wedding. School is starting soon, so no doubt my progress on this story will slow. I hope to keep up with regular updates.

**Chapter 8: Ask.**

The sun was sinking steadily behind the horizon. Tachibana waved to the second shift arriving for work as he left the distribution center headed for home. The friendly light streaming from the kitchen windows did little to lighten his mood. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that he had done a disservice to Kanami and Mimori by directing Kazuma to them. His dear friends had suffered so much over the past years. _Those girls are strong,_ he reminded himself, _stronger than just about anyone I've ever met._ Still he worried. Survival on the Lost Ground depended on friends and neighbors taking care of one another.

As he opened the door, the splendid smell of cooking food and the distinct clanking of pots and pans filled his senses. Tachibana made for the first door on the left, his study. There were a few papers that needed to be filed before he could retire for the night.

Tachibana ignored the light switch on the wall and made straight for his desk to click on the small lamp there. As he fell into his desk chair, he released a weary sigh. His eyes strayed to the phone for a second. His fingers itched to dial the clinic and alleviate his worry, but he mentally shook himself and started on the task at hand.

"Tachibana." The sound of his name in a cold, familiar voice shattered the calm.

Tachibana stood up and did a quick search of the room. Standing in a darken corner was the rigid figure of a man in a worn HOLY uniform. Even in the dim light of his study, Tachibana would have recognized those piercing crimson eyes anywhere. Unconsciously, his body stiffened into a military posture. Sweeping an arm in the direction of an empty seat before his desk he said, "Ryuho, I was wondering when you'd show up at my door."

Ryuho accepted his offer, and they sat in unison. By the dim light from the desk lamp, Tachibana was able to study his former colleague. Ryuho's face was deeply etched by long scars on his sunken cheeks. There was a certain sharpness and a degree of wildness to his features that hadn't been there before.

There was a gentle knock on the door. Before Tachibana could answer, it swung open and his very pregnant wife entered the room. She turned to flick on the overhead light. "Asuka," Cammy began, but her tongue stilled in her mouth when she saw Ryuho. Perhaps it sight of the long forgotten HOLY uniform or the way the overly bright light illuminated Ryuho's bruised and beaten skin, but the color drained from her face. She leaned heavily against a bookcase.

Tachibana leapt up immediately, but Cammy seemed to regain her strength and waved him off. "I wasn't aware we had a guest," she said weakly.

"Darling," Tachibana said, "This is Ryuho, an old colleague of mine from HOLY. Ryuho this is my wife, Cammy." On cue, Ryuho stood and performed a very formal bow.

"I'm so very glad to meet you," she said politely, "I hope that you will be able to join us for dinner. It will be ready momentarily."

"I would be honored," Ryuho replied performing another formal bow.

Tachibana found himself starring after his wife as she hurried from the room. There had been a spark of recognition in her eyes that worried him. He turned back to find Ryuho studying him carefully.

"You've changed a great deal, Tachibana," he finally said.

"Well," Tachibana smiled, "we can't be boys forever. I've grown up over the past seven years."

Ryuho's voice didn't rise in anger or disbelief but was deadly calm as he demanded, "Seven years. Has it really been that long?"

Tachibana merely nodded his head and sank with a sigh back into his chair. He motioned for Ryuho to do the same. Only the jerky nature of the other man's movements belied his distress. Tachibana allowed him a few silent moments to collect his thoughts. Finally he asked, "Of all the people, why would you come to me?"

"I want to know about the mainland's activities," Ryuho replied.

"Ah," Tachibana sighed knowingly. He ignored the unexpected annoyance creeping into his mind and continued in a matter-of-fact way. "The mainland hasn't overtly threatened the New Republic since the War of Independence. However certain, more secretive, agencies are still trying to interfere with the Republic's success."

"Those interested in alter power?" Ryuho quietly inquired.

"Yes, by all accounts," Tachibana replied. "Every once in a while a native alter disappears. Locals blame it on the mainland, but the New Republic's government has been unsuccessful in uncovering the truth." He tried to read Ryuho's expression but failed.

"It is my duty to insure that the mainland's quest to control alter users fails," Ryuho stated fiercely.

Tachibana felt a stab of pity for his friend. "In that case," he sighed, "You'll need to contact the LGA."

"LGA?" Ryuho asked.

"The Lost Ground Alliance," Tachibana explained. "A group not unlike HOLY, or at least, what we all believed HOLY to be."

"Where can I find this group?" Ryuho asked.

"You don't," Tachibana retorted. "They find you. But by whispering in the right ears, I can probably get you their attention."

"Then do it," Ryuho ordered.

Another knock sounded at the door. This time Cammy waited for Tachibana's word before opening it. "Dinner is ready," she said. She shot a nervous glance at Ryuho before withdrawing.

The mood at the table that night was polite but awkward. Ryuho and Cammy were mutually uncomfortable around each other, so it was left to Tachibana to drive most of the conversation. He kept the topics safely to his business and some current affairs.

After the meal, Tachibana offered Ryuho the use of the guest room, which he accepted. They left Cammy clearing the table so he could escort Ryuho upstairs. "The bathroom is at the end of the hall," he found himself explaining, "You'll find a set of towels in the chest at the end of your bed. I can lend you some of my clothing until you're back on your feet again."

"Thank you Tachibana," Ryuho said politely, "You and your wife have been most kind."

An awkward moment stretched between the two men. When Ryuho finally began to close the door, Tachibana's anger erupted. "You're not even going to ask, are you?" he snapped.

"Ask what?" Ryuho demanded.

"How she's doing? Where she is?" Tachibana retorted. He searched his former colleague's eyes for any hint of emotion but found only stone.

"No," Ryuho replied calmly before shutting the door with a decisive click.


	9. Damaged

**Disclaimer:** I don't own s-Cry-ed or any of the characters. I'm just taking them on a little adventure.

**A/N: **My fall schedule looks like something out of a nightmare. I'll try to keep up with regular updates, but I promise nothing.

**Chapter 9: Damaged.**

Kazuma awoke to brilliant sunlight striking him in the face. He blinked a few times with confusion and sat up. As he rubbed the last remnants of sleep from his eyes, the memory of the previous day filtered back into his mind.

He smiled as he thought of giant dinner Kanami had prepared last night. It should have been enough to feed a small army, but Kazuma had reduced it with amazing speed to nothing but scraps. While Mimori and Kanami cleaned up, they left Kazuma in a tidy little bathroom to shower. The hot water felt exquisite over his sore body, and he happily scrubbed the grim of battle off. For the first time in what seemed like ages, he was warm, full, and clean. He had barely registered the comfort of the mattress or softness of the sheets as he had collapsed into bed.

Kazuma pulled back the covers and turned to put his feet on the floor. He stood with much difficulty before struggling into a clean set of clothing that had been laid out neatly at the end of his bed. He hobbled like an old man to the bathroom. The stairs seemed an impossible obstacle, but the smell of something delicious urged him down.

Kanami was no where to be seen downstairs, but he found Mimori sitting at the kitchen table sipping tea and looking over some papers. Her eyes clouded with worry as she observed his stiff movements. "Sit down," she ordered gently while getting up and pulling out a chair for him.

Kazuma sighed with relief as he sunk into the proffered chair. "Where's Kanami?" he asked as he listened to Mimori rummage through the cabinets behind him.

"Take these," she said laying two white capsules and a glass of water in front of him. "Kanami left hours ago to work in the southwest fields."

Kazuma swallowed the pills without question. "She's alone," he asked with concern.

"Of course not," Mimori replied while busying herself at the stove, "We employ several people from the area to help with the farming."

"Why aren't you working in the fields?" he demanded.

Mimori sat a bowl of miso soup on his right and a bowl of steamed rice to his left. "I have my own work to attend to," she answered calmly. "Do you prefer coffee or tea?"

"Neither," Kazuma answered hungrily eyeing the soup and rice.

Mimori returned a minute later with a glass of milk, a plate of natto, and a dish of pickles. She placed them down on the table around him before returning to her chair. Kazuma took this as his cue to start shoveling food into his mouth. Mimori seemed to ignore Kazuma as she returned to studying her papers, but she would quickly rise and refill a dish as soon as he emptied it.

When Kazuma finally leaned back with a satisfied groan, Mimori rose and made quick work of clearing the table. "Those pills I gave you should be kicking in soon," she said over her shoulder as she efficiently washed out the breakfast dishes. "However, when I'm done here, we should go over to the clinic and get you thoroughly checked out."

"Hey," Kazuma protested, "I don't want anyone poking and prodding me."

"Don't be such a baby," Mimori admonished. "You'll be of no use to Kanami and I hobbling about like an old man."

The use of Kanami's name had the desired effect. Kazuma grumbled, but he dutifully followed Mimori across the gravel turn about to the clinic. If he had known just how thorough Mimori intend to be, he might have not been so quick to give in.

Kazuma proved to be the most ill behaved patient that Mimori had ever treated. He surpassed even the Higurashi terror twins, and she was quite certain those boys were some part demon. He whined when Mimori tightened the blood pressure cup. He kept spitting out the thermometer until she threaten him with a rectal one. He complained the whole time she tried to listen to his lung sounds, and blatantly refused to say "AHH" and let her examine his throat. Finally, he nearly shoved her through the wall when she stuck him with a needle to draw blood.

As she fell, Mimori overturned a small tray of instruments. They tinkled like tiny bells as they scattered on the concrete floor around her. "Those were sterile," Mimori cried in exasperation.

Kazuma angrily plucked the syringe from his arm. He did feel a moment of remorse though as he watched her absently rub her shoulder. He hadn't meant to hurt her. "I'm sorry."

"You should be," Mimori growled as she struggled to stand, "You're worse than a two year old." She picked up the overturned tray and began gathering up the fallen instruments.

"I don't believe you," she continued, "You could barely walk this morning, you've got lacerations and bruises all over your body, and you can hardly move your right arm. I try to help you, and you swat at me like an annoying insect. Well you can just go to the devil." The pinging of metal instruments hitting a metal tray seemed to accent her angry speech.

"Look," he retorted, "I said I'm sorry. Let's just get this over with."

Mimori released a heavy sigh and placed the tray of sullied instruments back down on the edge of the exam table. She seemed about ready to cry. "Okay," she sighed, "but no more complaining or fidgeting or knocking me about."

"I promise," Kazuma agreed.

"Okay," Mimori sighed. "Take off your shirt."

"What!" Kazuma yelled.

"You promised," she reminded him.

Kazuma grumbled but did as he was told. Mimori quickly focused on his right arm. With expert fingers, she carefully examined the joints and muscles. She also guided him through a series of simple exercises like trying to lift his arm over his head or pushing his arm away from his body against a slight resistance. He seemed to be failing miserably, and Mimori was constantly pausing to jot down notes. By the time she told him he could put his shirt back on, Kazuma was genuinely worried. "What's the verdict?" he

"I'm not going to lie to you Kazuma," Mimori said pulling up a stool to sit beside the exam table. "You're in pretty bad shape. You've lost approximately 60-70 of the mobility in your right arm and shoulder."

"It will heal with time, right?" he asked.

"You could possibly regain 10 to 15 of the movement back with enough time," she replied. "That is assuming of course that you never use your alter again."

"Never use my alter, are you crazy?" he retorted. "I'm an alter user. That's what I do."

She met his eyes dead on with a steely gaze. "If you continue using your alter, especially at intensity and with frequency you've done in the past, you will likely become completely paralyzed on the right side of your body."

Kazuma was stunned. It was as if she had punched him square in the gut. "I don't believe you."

"You know it's not just your arm anymore," she commented. "It stares you in the face every time you look in the mirror. You've lost the use of your right eye and some of the control in your facial muscles. You're body is breaking down."

She spoke the truth. He couldn't deny it. Kazuma shifted his gaze towards his right arm that hung limply at his side. He was able with great pain to move it into his lap, but that was about it. There was genuine fear in his voice when he asked, "You can do something, right? Give me some more pills?"

"Those pills were merely for the pain and inflammation," she replied. "They aren't going to improve your condition. The only way to achieve that is with aggressive treatment."

"What kind of treatment?" he asked his voice hesitant.

"It's something that I've developed over the past few years especially for alter users," she explained. "It's complete non-invasive and virtually pain free."

"But this treatment of yours will work?" he demanded.

"You'll never be 100 again, especially if you continue to abuse your alter power." She stopped his inevitable protest by quickly continuing, "I'm not asking you to quit using your alter power all together. All I ask is that you to be more cautious about it. Treatment will be almost useless if you continue to push yourself past the limits."

"Okay," Kazuma grumbled, "I get it. I'll do your stupid treatment."

"Good." Mimori smiled, stood, and offered him her hand. "I have house calls to make this afternoon, but we can begin this evening. Until then, you can make yourself useful in the fields."


	10. Caring

**Disclaimer:** No profit is being made from this little bit of fiction. The characters and setting of this story are the intellectual property of others.

**A/N:** I sorry about the long delay in updating. I'm trying to finish my degree and am interviewing for jobs. Hopefully, I will be able to continue regular updates.

**Chapter 10: Caring.**

_Damn you, Tachibana,_ Ryuho inwardly cursed as he crumpled up the newspaper he was trying to read and threw it across the room. His host had planted the thought of Mimori so firmly in Ryuho's mind last night that he was still unable to concentrate on anything else.

Mimori had always excelled at slipping through his defenses, and now was no exception. He hoped that she had returned to the mainland and had forgotten him, but the accusatory nature of Tachibana's questioning the previous night told otherwise. Doubt and some nameless fear boiled within him. What horrors had the intervening years visited on his gentle girl? His mind raced with the awful possibilities as he found himself reluctantly standing.

Ryuho practically ran into Cammy as he stalked from the Tachibana's study. His eyes automatically went to her swollen stomach, and some undesired emotions curled up his throat choking him. His voice was cold as ice when he asked, "Where is your husband?"

"Asuka's finishing the innovatory in warehouse five," Cammy replied in a quiet, halted voice.

Ryuho bowed his head slightly in thanks, but the young woman was already scurrying back towards the kitchen. Ryuho continued his way outside.

The work yard of the distribution center was a bee hive of activity. Huge trucks rumbled into and out of the facility almost non stop. Fork lifts beeped madly as they hefted large crates of nameless goods. There were at least two dozen workers scurrying about the yard, and the shadows passing before brightly lit windows suggested dozens more were on site. It was almost unbelievable that the man who built this empire was the same unsure alter user he remembered.

Warehouse five was situated in the far corner of the work yard. It was a long metal building on a concrete base. The huge garage door at its front stood open like a giant gapping mouth. The harsh fluorescent light from the interior seemed to soften as it poured out onto the gravel of the work yard. Inside hundreds of boxes were stacked into giant block forming a maze that stretched back into the recesses of the building.

Ryuho found Tachibana standing on a raised platform overlooking the floor of the warehouse. In one hand he held a clipboard with a thick packet of paper on it, and with the other, he was using a pencil to visibly count boxes in one block. "Tachibana," Ryuho called out while making his way up a short flight of stairs onto the platform.

"You made me lose count," Tachibana sighed heavily snapping the pencil back onto the clipboard. "What can I do for you?"

Ryuho found himself focusing his gaze on the bent edges of the papers. Clearly pages were frequently turned. "You were right," he admitted reluctantly.

Tachibana raised one eyebrow and asked, "About what?"

"I do wonder about Mimori," he replied quietly.

Tachibana released a single snort, perhaps of laughter. "I knew you couldn't hold out for long," he muttered.

"Is she alright?" Ryuho asked. There was tremble of desperation in his voice that he didn't like.

"She was last time I saw her," Tachibana answered evasively. He seemed determined not make it easy on Ryuho.

"When was that?" Ryuho bit out.

"Earlier this week," Tachibana continued nonchalantly. "She stopped by to check on Cammy."

Ryuho closed his eyes and released the breath that he hadn't realized he was holding. The information blazed through his brain like a wild fire. She was alive and nearby. Like the Earth with the Sun, he felt the physical pull towards her. "Where is she?" he demanded.

"She lives about two miles north of here," Tachibana replied. He turned to hang his clipboard on a wall hook. When he turned back, it was to see Ryuho retreating quickly down the stairs. "Follow the signs to the clinic," Tachibana called to his back, "you can't miss it."

The sun was sinking below the jagged peaks to the west, and the world was bathed in gold and red light. It was a very different world than the one Ryuho remembered. The roads were well maintained and heavily traveled. The farms he passed buzzed with activity. It seems that order and affluence had finally stretched outside the city limits into the rural wilds.

By the time he reached the clinic's drive, the sky was stratified. Near the earth the air still glowed faintly with the last vestiges of sunlight, but the stars were starting to make their presence visible in the inky darkness above. The gravel beneath his feet crunched in discontent as he walked along. At first, it appeared as if the clinic drive simply went straight off into the sea. However as he marched farther long its length, his eyes could make out the shining lights of a little homestead.

The sound of a violin's lament stopped Ryuho in the shadow of charming farmhouse. It drifted out of the open windows of a low building directly across from him and mixed perfectly with the subtle symphony of crickets and night breezes. Music was essence of culture, of all things great and good. Many years ago he could have easily identified the piece and the composer, but now he was as savage as the Lost Ground. He found the delicate melody almost painful to his ears.

The door to the low building opened, and a rectangle of light stretched across the gravel towards the place where Ryuho stood. A man briefly cast a long shadow as he stepped out into the night. As he watched the man stretched and flexed his right arm, Ryuho recognized him.

"Kazuma!" he yelled. Ryuho found himself instinctively rushing forward to strike. Even in the falling darkness, he could see the smile spread across his opponent's features as he moved into a defensive stance.

At the last second, Kazuma side stepped Ryuho's charge. For a brief moment, the two seemed to orbit around one another as Ryuho skidded to a stop. "Too slow as usual," Kazuma sneered.

Ryuho whirled around preparing to defend himself against Kazuma's attack, but it never came. His opponent's expression was thoughtful as he gazed at his right fist, which he was slowly opening and closing. Kazuma raised his head to contemplate something over Ryuho's shoulder. "You're not worth it," he muttered before turning his back on Ryuho.

"What are you talking about?" Ryuho demanded.

"You're late," Kazuma said strolling towards the farmhouse. "She's waiting for you."

Ryuho became aware of the violins again. The sweet sadness had seeped from their melody, and now they thundered with the power of a whole orchestra behind them. He wanted to rage with them at Kazuma, but the sound of the screen door slamming stifled his wrath. He preformed a rigid about face and marched determinedly towards the clinic door. He would see Mimori, insure that she was safe, and then move on.

He threw open the clinic door with resolve and stepped inside. The bright fluorescent lights were unflattering to the utilitarian furnishings of the reception area. There was no nurse seated behind the desk, but the door to the right of it stood open exposing a glimpse of the darkened room beyond. Music flowed out from inside. Fixing his gaze on the door, he walked forward.

The air in the room beyond smelled strongly of spicy, sweet incense with a hint of something acrid like smoke. The only light came from the far corner of the room, but it was dancing eerily around the room reflected by the stainless steal cabinets that lined one wall. Strangely, the thundering music seemed accompany the light, and Ryuho was drawn towards the source. The orchestra was racing towards its crescendo as he finally drew past the last hulking piece of machinery blocking his view.

Mimori was seated on a wheeled stool, which she had pulled up to a long metal table. Her back was towards him, and she was hunched over a binocular microscope. The orchestra released one final, bitter note.

"You should have returned to the mainland," he said quietly into the silence.

Mimori's spine stiffened briefly, but she didn't turn to face him. "My father always said," she replied softly, "that I never did as I was told." Slowly she lifted her head as a light-hearted melody of woodwinds began dancing through the air. Mimori reached up and coldly snapped off the radio. In a fluid movement, she spun her stool to face him.

Time had been good to Mimori. Her hair glistened like wet raven feathers under the bright light of the laboratory lamp. The soft bangs that used to frame her face were gone, and any hair that might threaten to distract her from her work was carefully tucked behind her ears. Her face was leaner than he remembered, but the look suited her delicate features.

"You look in as bad a shape as Kazuma," she said, her keen dark eyes carefully scanning him. "I'd better have a good look at you. In one fluid motion, Mimori stood and flipped on a row of switches to her left. Immediately the room was bathed in harsh fluorescent light.

Ryuho closed his eyes against the bright light, but he felt a gentle but firm touch to his arm. When he opened his eyes again, he found Mimori staring up into his face. His eyes widened at her sudden closeness. He watched entranced as she carefully studied his features. When her gaze finally rose to meet his, there was no emotion in her eyes at all. "Why don't you have a seat on the exam table behind you?" she asked with a polite expression. "I'll be with you momentarily."

Ryuho fought the feelings of disappointment and did as he was told. Mimori soon appeared beside him with a stethoscope wrapped around her neck and a folder in her hands. She wrote rapidly across the top of the chart before setting it down with a decisive snap on a small metal tray next to the exam table.

There is an awkward sort of intimacy to a medical exam. Mimori brought her face within a hair's breadth of his own in order to look into his eyes and ears. He could see every lash surrounding her chocolate eyes, feel the warmth of her breath on his skin, and smell the delicate scent of her shampoo. The conversation between them was limited to short, necessary medical speak. Although he found his own heart racing at their close proximity, Ryuho found nothing but a cool professionalism in her gaze.

"Could you please remove your jacket and shirt?" she asked evenly. When he didn't immediately act, she explained, "I need to check your blood pressure and lung sounds."

Ryuho quickly complied. Mimori wrapped the blood pressure cup around his arm and tightened it painfully. She listened carefully with her stethoscope as the pressure slowly released. She wrote down the results on his chart. "You're blood pressure is elevated," she commented quietly. She lightly grasped his wrist in her fingers and starred intently at her watch. After a few moments, she wrote again on his chart. "You're pulse is a little erratic. Do you ever feel dizzy or short of breath?"

"No," he replied. He watched with morbid fascination as Mimori pumped up the pressure cup again before sticking a needle in his arm to remove a small vial of blood. After bandaging the small puncture, she removed the blood pressure cup and placed the stethoscope into her ears. She warmed up the bell with a few hot breaths before placing it against his chest. "I want you to breathe deeply," she ordered before quickly demonstrating.

Ryuho picked up the instructed breathing rhythm. Mimori bent her head intently and moved the stethoscope systematically around his chest. With each breath, a definite soreness rattled in his chest. However, when Mimori placed her stethoscope on his back, something entirely more frightening happened. He was in the middle of an inhale when his lungs ceased suddenly. The pain was instant and overwhelming. It felt like a giant hand had reached into his chest and was strangling his heart and lungs. _This is what if feels like to drown, _he thought as he desperately tried to pull air in through his mouth.

Ryuho yielded immediately as Mimori pressed him back on the exam table. He could hear her calmly instructing him to focus and breath, but he could also hear the pathetic, panicked whelps of his failing attempts. There was a cold hiss of sterile air as a plastic mask was placed over his nose. The room began to spin drunkenly around, and bright spots blurred across his vision. In a surprising lucid moment, he realized he was in the process of dying.

The world seemed to grind to a halt. Something pierced his chest like a bolt of lightening. He felt a fire erupt in his struggling lungs. Instead of pain, the heat seemed to relax his convulsing muscles. He felt his airways open up, and soon he was able to take deep drinking breaths without effort. He closed his eyes and let the calming warmth spread throughout his chest.

"Just lie back and keep breathing steadily," Mimori's comforting voice broke through to him. He opened his eyes and watched her slowly draw her hands back from his rib cage. She once again inserted the stethoscope into her ears and listened to the sounds of his breathing. Occasionally, she would watch the monitor attached to a small plastic clip she had placed on his index finger.

Her brow was wrinkled with concern when she finally pulled off the stethoscope and pulled a seat up next to the exam table. "I'm very worried about you, Ryuho," she said quietly. "Unlike Kazuma, you've seemed to internalize all the damage from your alter use. Your breath sounds are diminished, and you're blood doesn't seem to be oxygenating properly. Judging from your elevated blood pressure and erratic pulse, I'd say your circulatory system is affected. The headaches you described to me could be a sign of problems with your nervous system. All in all, I'd say you've done some serious harm to you body."

Ryuho couldn't think of any reply to her dire diagnosis. The fear and panic from his earlier attack was still fresh in his mind.

"I'm sorry, but I can't let you go back to the Tachibana's tonight," Mimori said firmly. "We have a spare room in the farmhouse. We've had patients stay there many times. That way I can keep you on oxygen and monitor your progress through the night."

"How did you know I was staying with Tachibana?" Ryuho asked sharply. His voice sounded unsteady and was slightly muffled through the oxygen mask.

"Cammy and I are friends," Mimori said calmly. "She called me last night to let me know that you were there."

Two emotions wrestled in his mind for control. The first was undoubtedly guilt. There was no accusation in her voice, but she must have realized how coldly and deliberately he had once again decided to cut her from his life. The second emotion was anger. It surged with surprising fury up his spine. She had known all day he was there, and yet she hadn't come in search of him.

"Just lie back and relax for a few moments while I take care of your blood sample," Mimori ordered gently.

Ryuho inhaled deeply through his oxygen mask and felt the almost metallic air cool the warmth in his chest. He watched intently as Mimori collected the vial of his blood and his chart. Her face briefly contorted with pain as she stood, and she limped heavily as she disappeared into the recesses of the room behind him.

Ryuho's mind registered a flash of confusion. He thought she had moved with ease earlier, but perhaps he had been paying more attention to his own physical problems. His brow furrowed with concern as Mimori re-appeared several minutes later leaning heavily on wooden cane. The concern in his voice was almost completely disguised through the mask over his mouth when he asked, "Mimori are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, "Why don't you sit up slowly?" She put a firm hand between his shoulder blades and pulled him into a sitting position. The action caused her to waiver in her balance, and she had to steady herself against the exam table.

"What is wrong Mimori?" Ryuho found himself asking.

"Nothing," she said dismissively. She limped towards the steel cabinets along the wall. From behind one of the lower doors she pulled a green cylinder about the length of her arm and tucked it under one arm. Leaning her cane against the cabinets, she pulled one of the upper cabinet doors opened and pulled out a plastic bag which she clutched in her teeth while she shut the door. She had to readjust the long green canister several times before successfully making it back to Ryuho's side.

Mimori tore open the plastic bag and pulled out a thin stretch of tubing which she expertly attached to the green canister. She gently pulled the oxygen mask from his face and ran the thin tube under his nose. She was carefully tucking the tube behind his ears when her eyes finally met Ryuho's.

For a brief second, Ryuho was able to see a deep well of pain and sadness in her eyes before it was replaced by blank fatigue. His eyes held hers pinned. "Why are you limping, Mimori?" he demanded softly.

"It's nothing," she sighed, "just an old injury that flares up once in a while. I'll be fine in the morning."

Ryuho found her explanation lacking, but he remained silent.

"Let's get you inside," Mimori said brightly, "I'm sure Kanami is anxious to see you."


End file.
